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However, the way her three friends’ attention immediately zeroed in on her, she could tell she’d failed to fool them that she was fine.
“Is something wrong?” Marie, always the first to tune into people’s moods.
Darcy shook her head too quickly, tears threatening; she grabbed her mug of coffee. As if that would help. “Nada.”
A brief silence while they all didn’t believe her. The problem with good friends was that they were good friends, and didn’t put up with bull poop.
“Things tough with Troy?” Kim, uncharacteristically taking the lead. Since she’d been engaged to Nathan she’d blossomed into newfound confidence and strength—though getting the big job with Carter didn’t hurt. Candy had bloomed, too, after discovering Justin.
Finding men who brought out the good in women instead of the shrewish worst was a talent that had apparently passed Darcy by.
“Things with Troy…” She bunched her mouth and shrugged as if she couldn’t begin to explain or care, while traitor tears snuck into her eyes despite strict instructions to stay away.
“Uh-oh.” Marie reached across the table to squeeze Darcy’s arm. Her sympathy served as an invitation for more of Darcy’s tears to join the fun. “Tell us.”
“Maybe we can help.” Candy’s brow was wrinkled in concern.
“We’d really like to,” said Kim.
“Will you stop being so nice to me?” The bravest tear dared to spill over Darcy’s lower lid and travel down her cheek.
So much love at the table, so much support, so many worried friends so eager to help, advise and offer comfort. Why couldn’t guys behave like this when you needed them to? They were fine fixing toilets, but when it came to backing women up on emotional matters…
“Troy.” She gestured helplessly. “He turned out to be a man after all.”
Candy’s left eyebrow rose up. “And you were hoping for…?”
“What happened, Darcy?” Kim reached for a muffin from the plate in the center of the table. “If you tell us, we can do better with our brilliant advice.”
Darcy took a deep breath, fighting her instinct, which was to close up and keep her emotions private and safe, and explained as best she could. They already knew about her hopes for the restaurant, her hurt over Raoul’s betrayal; she could feel them with her, murmuring support, nodding in agreement.
But as the story progressed to the events of last Saturday, she felt the sympathy and support ebbing. An exchanged glance between Candy and Marie. Kim no longer meeting her eyes.
Worse, to her ears now, Ace’s suspicions sounded as paranoid and unfounded as they undoubtedly had to Troy.
Had she made a horrible mistake? Was she actually the same psycho girlfriend all her previous men accused her of being? Did she have no right to ask for Troy’s unconditional support on an issue that had seemed so important and so dire at the time?
She wound up the story in uncomfortable silence, feeling shaky and disoriented, aware she was completely alone at the table of women. What was right here? What was important? Had she sacrificed her happiness with Troy for no reason? Did she have a hand in ruining all her previous relationships, as well?
“I think—” Marie spread jam carefully onto the end of a blueberry scone “—that you need to talk to Troy about this. Tell him the facts are beside the point, that you needed support and he didn’t deliver.”
Talk to him. Tell him what she needed. She’d done that and gotten nowhere, lowered her guard again and been punished for it. “I think I made it clear that he didn’t respect my feelings.”
“Did you respect his?” Marie’s gentle voice carried all the power of a bazooka.
Brutal honesty time. Maybe not. She’d been so closeted in her own feelings, in her own worries, so sure she was right to panic, that no, she hadn’t listened. Oh, God. She was a basket case. At very least a complete failure at relationships.
“What was he asking you to do?”
Darcy tried to block out the pain and dismay, probing her memories. He hadn’t bought into her suspicions, no, but mostly he’d been trying to get her to wait until morning before pursuing the matter. To calm down and think logically about the situation and Ace’s fears.
